Interrogating Vampires
by An Indigo Moon
Summary: The real 'The Girl in Question.' Andrew's acquired a handy new skill and Dawn's nail experiments have moved to her hair... Spuffiness all around!
1. Faces by the Bar

A/N: This came to me the very first time I watched The Girl in Question and was just about ready to kill my DVD player. I immediately came up with an alternate story line, because I couldn't stand the way it was and couldn't leave it like that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Buffy and Co. belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc. and the plot line belongs solely to my muse, who choose this moment to hit with a burst of inspiration.

Chapter One – Faces by the Bar

The club was dim, except for the sudden flashes of colored lights to accompany the booming dance music blaring from the DJ's station. Buffy sat at a semi-circular booth, staring dejectedly at the martini on the table, mocking her with its little umbrella. She lifted a hand and plucked it from its sanctuary inside her drink, before bringing it to her face, sticking her tongue out at its bright and cheerful colors, and throwing it onto the dance floor, where it was promptly crushed by a couple off to seek some privacy. She pouted. Tonight sucked.

No, she rephrased in her head, her life sucked. Ever since the great 'Earthquake' that brought Sunnydale into a giant sinkhole – honestly, did these people have _any_ creativity at all? – she hadn't been feeling right. Everything felt… gray, drab, neutral. There was nothing left to brighten up her day, to make her feel like getting up in the morning. She'd left that back in the school where she had fought. Where she watched him give up his life. Where she _fled_.

Buffy was careful not to say his name. Every time she thought about him, a hole seemed to open up near where her heart was, its ragged edges taking great pleasure in causing her pain. She was learning to ignore it, though, because she had felt the same throbbing for Angel and Riley. Yet even Angel's hadn't lasted this long.

She had tried to take her mind off her pain by traversing Europe, dragging Dawn along with her. They went everywhere, sight-seeing and taking pictures of any one they could find. No one would have guessed that they had just saved the world a month ago.

The only place Buffy avoided was England, which was done so as if it were the Black Plague. Dawn noticed, and although she was disappointed, she kept her mouth shut. She could feel how much her sister was hurting, see it in her eyes every time they passed someone with a leather duster or silver lighter. But right now, she was dancing her worries away.

As Buffy watched her little sister on the dance floor, she shook her head in disbelief. Dawn's nail polish experiments had been upgraded to hair color experiments, which led to yet another bottle blonde in the family. She had also picked up some her sister's dance moves, which led to the male half of the club – along with a decent amount of females – staring at her. No one dared approach her, because it was obvious who she was with and that they were together.

At first, Buffy protested vehemently against her baby sister dating a guy who was immortal, but once she met him she decided to give him a chance. She liked the way he looked at Dawn – as if she were the only one in the world. Dawn looked at him the same way, although she was always saying it was just a little crush. The Immortal wasn't exactly known for keeping his women close to him for long.

Buffy sighed as she tried to get into the music and stared back down at her drink. It was a frickin' martini, for Pete's sake! She needed something stronger – Vodka, maybe, or that bourbon Sp-

She cut the thought off as her wound began throb painfully. She took a shuddering breath and glanced at the bar. There was no way she was going up there. She would leave, find some quiet little dark and dank bar, and hail a taxi home. It was Rome, after all. There were taxis here, right?

Buffy's gaze widened as two men stepped into her line of view. One was of medium build with gelled back platinum blonde curls, while his companion was larger with spiked brown hair. Her senses screamed vampire, but that wasn't unusual. There were plenty of demons in this club, and even more Slayers waiting both inside and outside, ready for the kill as soon as one isolated itself. She didn't even get to have graveyard fun anymore.

The two began to walk toward the bar, and her eyes were glued to the man with the leather duster.

The gait was so smooth, so common, yet so undeniably predatorial that it took her breath away. Her gaze was fixated on him as he strode toward the bar, other man in tow. He was a panther, she realized as she continued to watch. The other might be a lion – the faulty king of the jungle – but him… he was a feline made human. He was the essence of the hunter brought to life. And there was only one person she knew that could portray himself as that – Spike.

She shook her head, inwardly laughing at her own silliness. Spike? Spike was _dead_. D-E-A-D. Gone and never coming back again.

Suddenly she crouched over the table, grasping her stomach as if to keep inside of her. The wound had ripped itself open and was having fun playing havoc with her insides. She needed to get drunk. Now.

A/N: Well, what do you think? Should I keep going? Review please!

Also... looking for a beta. Anyone interested, PM me, review me, or e-mail me: yes, all those who liked Little People, the next chapter is coming up… relatively soon.)


	2. Recollections

A/N: Reviews make me all warm and fuzzy inside… along with exceedingly hyper! It's a wonder I can sit still enough to type this.

Special thanks to GeekGrrl, my fabulous new beta!

This is just a kind of small scene that lets you see how bad Buffy has been hit by Spike dying. I love the song so much, which is why it's described so well. Just as a warning, this fic is mainly fluff, but there is a hidden plot somewhere… hehe!

Disclaimer: If I owned this, that would make me Joss, and Joss I am not, because if I was Joss, I wouldn't be writing this.

Chapter Two – Recollections

The door to Buffy and Dawn's apartment gave an audible click as a very drunk Slayer slinked inside and shut it. It was well past four in the morning; she should have been home three hours ago to see the Immortal off. Sure, he and Dawn could smooch all they wanted, but sex in her house was out of the question.

Buffy fumbled around the living room, trying to find the coffee table to steady herself and point her in the way of the bedroom. Instead her heels tripped over the carpet, causing her to fall directly in between said table and the couch housing Andrew, who was snoring uproariously in her ear. She unceremoniously pushed his face away, then used it to pull herself off the floor. The boy sputtered for a bit but gradually his breathing became even again, and he muttered something about how Godzilla was supposed to be in Tokyo.

Buffy managed to get into her bedroom on unsteady feet, closing the door on Andrew behind her. Dawn was already asleep, dreaming and sighing softly in her bed. She turned over and faced Buffy, who cringed as though she was going to reprimand her for being out so late. The Slayer stood stock still for a moment, assessing that her sister was still in her own little world before sighing and taking off her heels. She threw them next to the wall, placed her purse down on her nightstand, and collapsed onto her bed, still fully dressed.

* * *

Buffy woke to the sound of alternative rock and a slight prickling in her leg. She adjusted, and the sensation turned to pain. "Ow," she muttered, hiding her head under her pillow to block out Dawn's radio. She wiggled her leg a little, trying to find a comfortable position. The pain grew, and she groggily lifted her head and cracked open an eye, staring at a little feline with it mouth fiercely wrapped around her jeans.

"Ow," she said louder and directed it at the kitten. "'Ow,' as in 'shoo, retarded cat, you're hurting me!'" She kicked her leg and sent the brown form toppling overboard. A moment later she noticed a figure of dark fur hurtling out the door of her room, which was slightly open. Buffy rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and reluctantly swung her legs over the bed. She yawned, stretched, and walked over to the door, clutching her head, but before she could close it, she listened to the slow song that was on the radio and she almost broke down in tears as it went on.

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors,_

_Leading you down into my core, where I've become so numb_

_Without a soul_

_My spirit sleeping somewhere cold_

_Until you find it there and lead it back home_

The now semi-loud, semi-fast music paused for a second before becoming a hard beat. The part was sung by an ethereal female voice that reminded her faintly of Tara. But as she finished the first verse, she was joined by a rough male voice that sang the intros to the chorus.

_(Wake me up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(Save me)_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_(Wake me up)_

_Bid my blood to run_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Before I come undone_

_(Save me)_

_Save me from the nothing I've become_

The music stopped its breakneck pace and returned to a slightly slower rock beat. The girl was singing alone again.

_Now that I now what I'm without,_

_You can't just leave me._

_Breathe into me and make me real._

_Bring me to life._

The music paused again, and the man rejoined her for the chorus.

_(Wake me up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(Save me)_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_(Wake me up)_

_Bid my blood to run_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Before I come undone_

_(Save me)_

_Save me from the nothing I've become_

The girl's voice was much quieter now, and joined by other females, while the guy's came out as almost a hiss.

_Bring me to life_

_(I've been living a lie,_

_There's nothing inside)_

_Bring me to life_

There was a build up in the music, and the girl's voice returned to normal. This time, though, there was another female voice that sounded suspciously the same. The two sang the same words, just in a different rhythm and at different times, causing them to overlap.

_Frozen inside without your touch,_

_Without your love, darling_

_Only you are the life among the dead_

The note was carried out by the original girl's voice alone. The music changed, and this time it was the guy's voice singing solo.

_All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see_

_Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me_

The girl's voice returned, continuing the verse.

_I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems_

_Got to open my eyes to everything_

Then it was the guy again.

_Without a thought_

_Without a voice_

_Without a soul_

_Don't let me die here_

_There must be something more_

The woman was back, her voice taut with emotion.

_Bring me to life_

And then came the chorus. Buffy hurriedly wiped away a tear and forced herself to listen to the end of the song. She needed it to have a happy ending.

_(Wake me up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(Save me)_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_(Wake me up)_

_Bid my blood to run_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Before I come undone_

_(Save me)_

_Save me from the nothing I've become_

_Bring me to life_

_(I've been living a lie,_

_There's nothing inside)_

_Bring me to life_

The girl held the last note out as the song dwindled and faded into a finish.

Buffy bit her lip to keep from sobbing. Two lines of the song stuck in her head. Sighing, she tried to sort out her thoughts – songs always got stuck in her head for a reason, and generally it was an emotion she wasn't facing. Well, she was going to face whatever she wasn't facing, because she was a brand new Buffy, and she wouldn't let herself get mopey and cause her little sister any worry. Sighing again, she let the waves of the first part of the song stuck in her head wash over her as she tried to figure out what they reminded her of.

It was the girl's part in the chorus. As she mentally listened to it again in her mind, she realized exactly what it reminded herself of.

_Me_, came the thought. It was the exactly replica of when she came back from the dead. She used Spike to make her feel, to wake her up, to bring her to life. And one line stood out in the verse: _Bid my blood to run_. She remembered when she asked him to bite her. It was about a week before Mr. and Mrs. Riley came and ruined it all, and she was still trying to make sense of things. She remembered it clearly now.

_Buffy was in Spike's cemetery. She appeared to be patrolling, a stake in her hand and a look of concentration on her face. But she was really thinking, reliving the night she had Spike tell her about the Slayers he killed. And his voice came back to her as if he were saying it all again. _

"_The only thing about the dance is you never get to stop. Everyday you wake up, it's the same bloody question that haunts you – is today the day I die? Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later, it's gonna catch you. And part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it. Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day, that final gasp, that look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know – what's it like? Where does it lead you? And now, you see, that's the secret... Every Slayer has a death wish."_

_And as she thought about it, she understood what he meant. Okay, so he wasn't one hundred percent correct, because, hello, been there, done that, but she got it. She wanted to know how it felt to be bitten, to feel her blood flow and to feel another creature enjoy it. Sure, Angel had bit her, but something told her Spike would be different. He would savor it. She smiled. She wanted to know tonight._

_She quickly approached Spike's crypt and opened the door to find the vampire bending into his refrigerator, picking out a packet of blood. She waltzed over to him as he stood up and snatched the bag out of his hands, throwing it onto the chair without turning around. He glared at her. "What was that for? I'm bloody hungry."_

_He made to move past her, but she stepped in front of him. He opened his mouth, about to say something about how he was going to bite her if she didn't let him drink, when he saw her hand pulling her shirt away from her skin, head tilted to one side, exposing the soft flesh of her neck. He licked his lips involuntarily. _

_Her voice was a whisper. "Bite me."_

He had protested so quickly and vehemently – something about him never being able to stop once he tasted her – that she forgot about it over night. But now the memory came flooding back, and Buffy smiled through her tears. He really had loved her.

The other part of the song decided that this was the time to make an entrance. They were just five words, but they sank to the pit of her stomach like stones weighing her down. _Don't let me die here._ That's exactly what she did. She'd let him die there. There were so many ways she could have saved him – grabbed his hand, yanked the necklace off, showed him she truly loved him. And even if none of those things worked, she could've stayed. They would have died together.

Buffy shook her head angrily at herself. _No use dealing on what I have should have done_, she told the guilty part of her heart, which was practically all of it. _He's gone, and I have to deal with it._

And with that, she crawled back into bed. She was suddenly exhausted. She pulled the covers over her head without bothering to see what time it was, and listened to a slow ballet before she faded to the dark waters of sleep.

A/N: Yeah for flashbacks within flashbacks! And the Buffy getting drunk thing didn't work out as well as it should have... Well, let's pretend Slayers sober up real fast and I don't have to write it.

The song is 'Bring Me to Life' by Evanescence. It's an absolutely amazing piece, and my favorite of all time.

Thanks muchly to all my reviewers: Mony19, all10xs, willow-wiccan, EMBER91, GeekGrrl, and satelliteblues21. I totally appreciate all of the comments. (hands out cupcakes)

Yes… I've been a bad person and not written in a while. Actually, I have, but it was for school and another piece I started two years ago that's completely my own. Don't worry, I'll get Little People up soon… Once I finish everything else.


	3. Temper Tantrums

A/N: Okies… so not as many reviews as I'd hoped for, but I've got some loyal fans, so I shall continue just for you!

Special thanks to my all-powerful beta, GeekGrrl. My stories would be horrendous without you.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned this… I really really do… But there's this Big Guy up in the sky called Joss… and he won't let me have it… (sobcry)

Chapter Three – Temper Tantrums

"Topper?" Dawn called as the little kitten flew out of Buffy's room as if he had all the hounds of hell on his tail. Quickly dropping to her knees, she scooped him up and kissed his furry head. "What's wrong, kitty?"

Topper let out a nervous purr. Dawn just smiled and stood up, placing the feline on Andrew's couch/makeshift bed. The boy in question was currently in the bathroom trying to 'freshen up' for a job interview, which he had been searching for since he had been fired from the Council. But that was a whole different story.

She turned to the radio and cranked up the volume as one of her favorite songs came on. She nodded her head a few times to the beginning solo before dancing into the kitchen, newly blonde hair flying. Just because she gave up on nail experiments didn't mean she had to do the same for cooking.

* * *

Buffy woke, for the second time, to the smell of smoke and a beeping alarm, followed by a muffled 'shit!' from Dawn. She yawned, still sleepy, before looking at the clock and rubbing her eyes to make sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. Groaning, she rolled out of bed. She would try and be up before two tomorrow. 

Staggering to her doorway, which was still open, she blinked a few times, not at all expecting the scene in front of her.

Blue eyes blazing with fury, Dawn had Andrew cornered in the kitchen. Topper hissed menacingly beside her, but Andrew's responding hiss sent him scooting back a few steps behind his angry shield. Glancing up at Dawn, the boy cringed as he realized that was probably not too good of an idea.

"You told him _what_?!" the teenager demanded, hands on her hips.

The only response she got was a very frightened Andrew, who immediately brightened when he saw Buffy peeking through her doorway.

"Hi, Buffy!" he called cheerfully. "How are you this afternoon? Would you mind taking your maniacal sister away from me before she hurts me? 'Cause that would make a big mess. And I know, I spill a _lot_ of blood when I bleed. Like this one time in kindergarten when Joey Pat-"

"Andrew," Dawn hissed warningly, her voice dripping with venom.

His eyes wide, the geek sprinted from the corner to dart behind the bedroom door and hide behind the Slayer, who was watching with amusement. "Buffy!" he squeaked. "Buffy will protect me!"

"Not a chance," she told him, opening the door fully and stepping out of her room. Andrew followed her like a shadow. Then she turned to Dawn. "Why were you yelling at our mentally-challenged couch-dweller?"

Andrew opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it and just stood quietly, desperately denying the inevitable.

Dawn just sneered. "Here, _Andy_, tell Buffy what you told me."

Buffy, now thoroughly confused by her little sister's temper, turned to Andrew, who was grinning sheepishly.

* * *

"You told him _what_?!" Buffy roared at a cowering Andrew, who was back in his corner. 

"I told him that you and the Immortal were cuddle buddies," he repeated sullenly.

"_Why_?!"

"Okay, this is the part where I get to defend myself and my methods, without any interruptions," Andrew declared, looking at first from one sister to another. All he got were twin glares and arms being crossed in unison.

"Okay." And with a shuddering breath, he began, his words pouring out in his rush to explain himself.

"Well, remember when you caught Angel's spy and you were all punch, wham, kick, send the guy through the wall and to hospital? And you asked what he was doing and he said spying for Angel and you asked why and he said Angel wanted to keep an eye on you. And then you were pacing the house for days, throwing stuff like my _extremely_ expensive collectable Star Wars figurines around and yelling about how he wouldn't leave you alone and how he should move on. Well, when he and Sp-, he stopped by I thought you wouldn't want to see him so I gave him a reason why besides the actual reason why because I wanted to break it to him gently."

Buffy blinked at the extreme lack of breath Andrew took during his whole speech before going back to the heart of the matter. "But you told him I was dating Dawn's boyfriend!"

"I was against the clock!" he protested. "He was staring at me with those big blue eyes, pleading with me to give him a chance to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you -" Buffy tilted her head, realizing something. "Angel has brown eyes."

Andrew mentally cursed himself for his slip up. "That's what I said. Big brown eyes."

"You said blue," Dawn told him, still glaring. She wasn't going to let this go easily.

"Did I? Oops, mouth trips me up sometimes," he said with a nervous chuckle, hoping they didn't notice. "Can I go now? I'm gonna miss my interview."

With a roll of her eyes, Buffy waved at the door, signaling he was dismissed. Andrew gave a Japanese bow and hurried out, grabbing his resume on the way.

"Can we kick him out?" Dawn pleaded.

"If you want to. This is your house for a few days."

Dawn raised her eyebrow, clearly both skeptical and puzzled.

"I'm going to L.A. to see Angel. If there was something so important he couldn't talk to me over the phone… I'm just going, okay?" Buffy sounded tired.

"Settling some issues?" Dawn asked knowingly.

"Oh, yeah." There was a sigh added to the end of that sentence.

Dawn smirked. "Kick his ass on the whole 'spy' thing. And tell him that the Immortal is my sweetie pie and he is not allowed anywhere near him." She began to edge towards the door. "Speaking of, I gotta go see him for lunch. I'll be home soon."

"Okay," Buffy said. "Have fun while I'm gone. And no sex."

Dawn smiled sweetly and slipped out the door. Buffy chuckled when she heard the 'dammit!' from outside their apartment, and then went to pack her clothes and buy a plane ticket. This was one conversation she wasn't looking forward to.

A/N: And to the reviewers that reviewed the last chapter, I give chocolate chip cookies!

And they are satelliteblues21, all10xs, EMBER91, and willow-wiccan! (snugs) I love reviewers!

And even if you don't love the song, it works extremely well in the situation. :)


	4. On the Way

A/N: I feel so loved… (happy tears) And I got a new reviewer! Yea!

Special thanks to the one and only GeekGrrl, my beta! (She's the one who came up with the 'couch-dweller' part in the last chapter, which I adore.)

It seems like lots of peoples like Andrew…. Interesting. He might play a bigger part then I originally was going to have him have.

Chapter Four – On the Way

Glancing at the large man asleep next her, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat on the airplane. She shivered and huddled closer to the window, watching the clouds float beneath her, a task she had enjoyed since she was little. It made her think of the snowy fields she played in when she visited her cousin Celia in North Dakota. Those were some of her favorite childhood memories, and sometimes she wished things were that simple again.

A non-descript flight attendant passed her with a cart. He smiled as she looked up.

"Would you like anything, miss?" His tone was polite, with an unmistakable English accent.

She was about to ask for a water and some ice when she realized she would have to reach over Mr. Fat Belly to get it. With a small smile, she shook her head. The attendant gave her a knowing grin and continued down the aisle. Buffy sighed and turned back to watching the world go by.

Try as she might, she couldn't keep from wondering why Angel had come to see her. If it had been so important, why hadn't he stayed to talk to her? She missed his voice sometimes – the way one always misses the feel of first love. But she yearned for someone else's touch more. The way his hands brushed against her cheeks when he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The way he held her when she felt like her world was breaking apart. The way he told her everything she needed to know with his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful, blue eyes.

Buffy hurriedly wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek. Couldn't she go for a day without thinking about him? He was gone, and that was that. She would never see him again. He would never get to read the gravestone she placed for him outside the wreckage that was Sunnydale, never get to sit under the little willow sapling she planted at the Watcher's Headquarters just for him, never get to hear her tell him she loved him. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window and felt her tears carve wet paths down her face.

* * *

The flight attendant glanced back at the young blonde woman gazing out the window and felt his heart wrench. Squashing his pains of guilt, he reminded himself he still had to accomplish what he had been sent here to do. He pushed the trolley into the 'employees only' part of the plane, where one of the female attendants sat, idly toying with the hem of her uniform's mini-skirt. As he came in, she rolled her brown eyes and scooted away from his seat, trying to get as far away as possible. But the boy remained standing.

"I've got to make a call," he told her. The redhead raised her eyebrows, but did nothing else. "Can you leave?"

"No, I'm staying here. My feet hurt from pushing that trolley around." The young attendant pouted and rubbed her supposedly sore feet.

"You did your rounds _once._ Now leave, I'm going to talk to my girl friend."

The girl immediately recoiled. "Ew, pizza faces like you actually _date_? That's… eck." With a visible shudder, she got up and pushed the cart down the aisle, pausing once every seat and asking if anyone wanted something to drink with a charming smile.

The male attendant stuck his tongue out at her as she continued. "Bitch." With that, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed speed dial.

"Pick up, pick up," he muttered, watching the other attendant warily.

"Wolfram and Hart, Angel's office, how can I help you?" an overly peppy voice asked.

"Harmony, I need to talk to Angel, _now_," the boy hissed. His accent had vanished.

"Justin? I'm sorry, I can't let you through. He's on his way to a very important meeting right now."

"This is more important, trust me. He needs to hear this. It's about Buffy."

"God damn it, what is up with this Buffy chick? Everyone's always swooning over her, 'Oh my God, Buffy, I love you so much, marry me,' and she's all, 'No, I'm too busy playing hard to get and watching you fall on your ass and –"

"Harmony, give the phone to Angel," Justin interrupted icily.

"God, sheesh. He'll be here in a second, as soon as I find him."

There were a few long moments, where Justin shifted his attention between a redhead and a blonde nervously. Then a deep male voice came through the line.

"Justin? What do you have to report?"

"Angel. Buffy's on a plane to Los Angeles."

Silence.

"Buffy's what?" The vampire's tone was sharp and clipped.

"She's on a plane to Los Angeles. Flight 2209. We're about an hour away from Newark. She has a connection there, and another in one in Chicago."

"How do you know she's coming to L.A.?"

Justin rolled his eyes, glad his superior couldn't see him. "I'm telepathic, remember? She's heading out to see you about why _you_ went to see _her_."

"But that issue is done and over with."

"She doesn't know that."

"Okay, fine," Angel sighed into the phone. "I'll deal with it when she gets here. Good work." He placed the phone back in its cradle on Harmony's desk, who was trying very hard not to eavesdrop. Angel leaned against the desk and put his hand over his eyes. He stayed in that position for a while, listening to the lawyers pass by and discuss their personal lives and to the clacking of Harmony's keyboard.

He was eventually roused by his assistant. "Er, boss…" she began. "Don't you have a meeting to go to or… something?"

"Right. Thanks, Harmony." Angel's voice was tired as he made his way back to the conference room.

* * *

Justin hung up his phone and then glanced back down the aisle. The redheaded attendant was flirting with one of the passengers, a young businessman in a suit who was clearly enjoying it. He rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to the blonde woman whose silent tears were flowing down her cheeks like rain. Again, he felt her sad face pull at his heart strings. And again, business was more important.

He dialed swiftly, waiting more patiently for an answer. "Angie? Yeah, it's Justin. Put him on." He waited again, a little more apprehensive this time.

"Hello?...Yeah, she's here…Uh huh, I made sure he knows…Everything's going according to plan. I told you to trust me…Yes, I remember…Uh huh…Uh huh…Okay, I got it. Put Angie back on, please, the bitch I have to work with today is coming back."

Seeing the flight attendant had finished making her rounds and was making her way back to the employees' areas, Justin immediately adopted his English accent again.

"…I love you too, hun. Say hi to Alyssa!" Justin pressed his cell phone to the other girl's ear just as Angie's voice came through in an overenthusiastic 'hello.' Alyssa responded with an 'uh-huh' and sat back down, rubbing her feet.

"Bye, baby." Justin clicked his phone shut and stashed it in his pocket. Alyssa just watched him as he sat down next to her and stretched his legs out.

"You know you're supposed to use the plane's phones, right?"

"They don't work at all. You're always missing half of the conversation."

Alyssa sniffed. "They work better then cell phones."

"Not mine," Justin told her with a grin, patting his pocket. "My phone's special."

Alyssa rolled her eyes and took a nail file out of her purse.

* * *

9 Hours Later

Angel sat at his desk at Wolfram and Hart, staring at the wall across of him, his chin in his hands. He hadn't told Spike about Buffy yet, and he had no intention of doing so. With any luck, she'd be gone, and nothing would have changed.

The door to his office swung open, and Spike swaggered in, a chocolate donut in his hand. He raised his eyebrow at Angel's forlorn appearance and waved his snack in front of his grandsire's face.

"What's wrong, mate? You look like someone just decided to break up Manchester United." His donut paused half way in his mouth as realization of what he just said sank in. "Manchester United is still alive and kicking, right?"

Angel just nodded, still brooding, completely oblivious to Spike's question.

Spike raised his eyebrows as he sensed an opportunity in the making. "I'll just be going then." He began to edge towards the door, popping the last of donut in his mouth. "You don't mind me borrowing your car, do you, mate?"

Angel nodded, and Spike grinned. He stopped edging and made a beeline for the door before Angel could change his mind. Angel's voice stopped him in his tracks just as he reached the threshold. Groaning with frustration, he stopped, and waited.

"Not the Viper, Spike."

Looking over his shoulder, the vampire smirked at his grandsire. "Whatever you say, Pops."

Angel scowled as Spike slammed the door behind him.

The former ghost strutted to Harmony's desk, where he held out his hand for the keys to Angel's cars. The blonde was on the phone, and randomly chose one hanging behind her and thrust it at him. He shook his head and mouthed 'Viper.' She returned his gesture, motioning for him to just take the one she had given him. He rolled his eyes and reached over her desk to grab the key ring labeled 'Viper: Not for Spike.' With his trademark grin, he winked at Harmony and walked off towards the elevator.

* * *

Alone in the elevator, Buffy nervously watched the floor display, silently willing it to go faster so she could get out. She couldn't understand how she could fight a seven foot demon but get wigged about riding an elevator. True, Wolfram and Hart's elevators were really big, but they were _evil _elevators. They probably put a spell on them or something to seem larger.

After dropping her bags off at a hotel that Giles had booked for her, she had slapped on some lipstick and headed straight over to Evil Inc. She just wanted this over and done with.

The elevator pinged, and she adjusted her purse on her shoulder as the door slid open. She took several deep breathes and raised her head, only to meet the most beautiful blue eyes. Eyes she had believed she would never see again. She decided her previous plan had gone straight out the window.

A/N: Don't you just love cliff hangers:) And yes, there is a plot in this. It can't be all fluffy!

And to my wonderful, most bestest reviewers in the whole world, I give chocolate donuts in honor of Spike! These would be Kali, satelliteblues21, willow-wiccan, Ember, and all10xs! Thank you for remaining loyal to this fic. (tears of joy)

And for those who were hoping for the whole confrontational chap, don't worry, it's next!

Willow-wiccan: Andrew is kind of hard to write at first, but if just keep thinking about random little things he does – like drinking the Capri Sun and complaining about the hot pockets – it eventually comes to you. It also helps to know someone younger and try putting their behavior as Andrew's, and then revising it to be more Andrew-like. Plus, if you read fanfics that have Andrew in them (I find that there are barely any Spuffies with Andrew in them – weird, huh?) you get a better feel for him. Hope that helps!


	5. Not Real

A/N: I just realized that I have more reviews then lots of peoples. You have no idea how much this means to me! I love you all! (blows kisses)

Special thanks to GeekGrrl, my one and only beta, who also happens to be all powerful! Yah!

Disclaimer: I own all the DVDs… Does that count? (hopeful)

**WARNING: There is some Bangel in this chapter (cringe) but it's necessary. Please, proceed with caution.**

Chapter Five – Not Real

Buffy's eyes widened as she took in her ex-lover, the man she thought to be dead for almost a year. He looked exactly the same – platinum blonde hair, black jeans and t-shirt, leather duster, and oh-my-god-I'm-drowning blue eyes. The only difference was the look of absolute surprise she thought she would never see on his face. And right then, she knew what she had to do.

A mighty crack resounded through the lobby as her fist connected with Spike's nose, causing him to yell out in pain and stumble back several feet. His hands immediately rushed to his face, blood trickling through his fingers as he tried to stop the flow. Most of the employees stopped to watch, as they never witnessed much action ever since Angel became the CEO.

He looked at her with such shock as he clutched his broken nose that Buffy felt the hole around her heart beginning to open itself up again. She bit her lip, watching Spike as he watched her. He wasn't angry, just dumbfounded. And maybe just a tiny drop of guilt. But he wasn't him, either. Because the real him was dead.

"Angel," Buffy called. Her tone wasn't loud, but commanding enough that everyone in the suddenly silent lobby and surrounding rooms could hear her. That included the vampire himself, who rushed out of his office at the sound of the Slayer's voice.

"Angel, you've got a shape shifter here." Buffy turned to him, but not before giving mock-Spike a black look that shot daggers. "I'd rather not see anyone in that form right now."

Angel watched her, trying to read her face. It was stone cold, but he could see a little crack of weakness running through it. No one else, except for maybe Spike, could have seen that it was a smoke screen.

Buffy looked up, her eyes pleading silently with him. The hole around her heart throbbed painfully every second, knowing that Spike was there in the same vicinity as her, and she wasn't able to run into his arms because he wasn't actually him. And not matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop it from ripping itself apart. Her bottom lip trembled.

"Please?" Her words were whispered, and Angel's heart melted as he put an arm around her to guide her into his office.

"Sure." As they walked, Angel shot a look over his shoulder at Spike, who had moved past the initial shock and straight into rage at the sight of his sire holding onto Buffy. _His_ Buffy. But the little voice in his head that was telling him that Buffy wasn't his anymore, coupled with the secret message Angel was trying to relay to him with his eyes, was enough to make him simply groan in frustration and go off to hit something.

* * *

Buffy was sitting on a comfortable chair on one side of Angel's desk, her back to the door. She stared blankly at the cup of coffee that Harmony had placed in front of her. She knew that she should be yelling about the vampiress for some reason, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Everything revolved around those beautiful, gorgeous blue eyes.

Angel watched her from the doorway of his office, leaning against the frame. As Harmony approached him, her grabbed her arm and pulled her right outside the door, careful to close it.

"How's she doing?" he whispered, his dark eyes worried.

Harmony glared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "She's been sitting and staring at nothing for an hour, boss. How do you think she's doing?"

Angel scowled at her, but Harmony refused to back down. Finally, he sighed and motioned towards her desk. "Reschedule the rest of my meetings for another day." The vampiress nodded and made her way over to her chair, clacking on her keyboard almost immediately. "God knows I'm going to need it," he muttered to himself as he opened his door again.

Buffy was still sitting and staring at the coffee cup. She didn't look up when he came in, so he tried to be as noisy as possible while making his way to his leather chair. She didn't even notice him until he sat down and waved his hand in front of her eyes.

Buffy blinked slowly as she looked up at him, almost as if she was waking from a dream. Him being Angel. Him being not Spike. Not Spike was not a good thing. She was about to retreat into her daydreams again, but then Angel started talking. It was hard to think about Spike when someone was talking directly to her.

"Buffy," Angel began, talking one of her hands in his. "I know I should have told you this a long time ago. Hell, I shouldn't have told you, he should've. But he didn't, and because he didn't, I should've. But I didn't either, so…" He took a deep breath, watching Buffy stare at him blankly. She seemed a little more awake now.

"So…?" She continued for him, waiting for the point to this conversation. When Angel refused to reply, she sighed heavily. "Whatever it is, spit it out, Angel."

Angel nodded and gripped her hand a bit harder. "Buffy… The person you saw back in there wasn't a shape shifter or a hologram or anything like that. That was actually Spike. He came back to us in the amulet I sent you. He was a ghost for a while, but then he became corporeal and then –" Angel looked up at Buffy when he finally noticed her hand was trembling. He braced himself for the tears, but there was none. There was laughter.

Buffy never thought she could laugh so hard. It wasn't exactly happiness, although there was a bit of that in there. There was pain, and there was a lot of grief, but there was also realization and understanding.

"Buffy? Are you okay?" Angel tried to catch her eyes, but they were closed as she leaned back in her chair, trying to hold in her laughter.

"I…finally…get it," she managed to say between giggles. "I finally…broke."

"Buffy? You're broken? What?" Angel was, at the very least, extremely confused.

"I'm crazy, Angel!" Suddenly, the chuckles were gone, replaced with a sad smile and a few hiccups. "You see? I'm starting to believe in my hallucinations. I could have sworn you actually said that Spike was really him out loud. See, I finally broke, huh? All that Slaying does something to you."

"Buffy –" Angel began again, reaching for her hands, but she pulled them back angrily.

"Stop doing that! Stop saying my name like I'm some stupid little kid who needs everyone to beat around the bush! I don't need to be protected! I need to know what's going on!" She jumped up and pushed her chair back in frustration. It made a muffled thump as it found itself on the floor. Buffy began to pace around the confines of the office at the speed of a power walker, trying to sort out her thoughts.

Angel sat there, seething. All he was trying to do was help her, and she was screaming at him! What had he done to deserve that? There were only two people who could really push his buttons – Buffy and Spike. As the former continued to pace on the subject of the latter, his temper snapped, and he jumped out of his chair as well, trying desperately to push his demon away.

"I'm only trying to help you here! I get it that's hard to accept at first, but would you just HEAR ME OUT?! Spike's _alive _and he's real and he's been like that for about seven months now! And if you'd just SHUT UP and LISTEN for a change, maybe you could learn something!" Angel tried to calm himself down, but he was still fuming. He clutched the desk tightly, counting to a hundred, before looking up.

Buffy was standing there, her hands on her hips, glaring down at him. When she spoke, her voice was deathly quiet. "I'm listening now."

"Well, that's a big help. Did you not hear the rant? There is one basic fact, and that's all you need to know. Spike's alive and he's real." The vampire's rage was fading slowly, but refused to go away fully.

"See, that's where I'm stuck," Buffy told him as she began to pace again. "Spike can't be alive. I saw him die in Sunnydale. I watched as the whole town caved in, and I didn't see him anywhere. There was no way he could have gotten out of that hole, even in he miraculously _did_ survive. There was no chance in Hell."

Angel sighed and stared hard at the desk, wondering what to say to the Slayer. She just denied that there was any chance of Spike being alive. And the truth didn't make anymore sense than the fact. What was he going to say? Spike happened to be Fed-Exed to them by Angel's arch-nemesis so he could kill him? Not likely.

He was saved by the sound of a quiet sob. His head snapped up just in time to see a tear fall from Buffy's eye on to the carpet. The one tear brought friends along too, and soon she was crying buckets, holding on to herself as drops landed on the floor.

Angel was by the Slayer's side in an instant, holding her to his chest. She nuzzled him as the tears continued to flow. In his arms, she felt comforted, the same way his embrace had felt when she was sixteen. The big bad vampire that would protect her from anything that came close to her. For now, that was exactly what she needed.

"He can't be real, Angel," Buffy wept, clutching his navy blue sweater. "Because if he is, that means he didn't come to me. That he doesn't care. That he doesn't love me anymore."

Angel watched her sob brokenly, and held her a bit tighter. He couldn't help but think to himself how wrong she really was.

A/N: Ah… The Bangelness is over. You can breathe now. :P

Special thanks to all my reviewers: Wolfram-and-Hart-Sauron, Ember, satelliteblues21, willow-wiccan, Layla, and Moluvsnumber17. Very special thanks to my consistent reviewers – Ember, satelliteblues21, willow-wiccan, and Layla – I love you guys to pieces and so you get (drum roll) Truffles! Yes, I am running out of sweets here…

Extra extra special thanks to satelliteblues21, who suggested Buffy punch Spike in the nose. It fit in so well with my story.

Okay, and for all those who want Angel to get ass-kicked by Spike and are wondering why Spike gave up so easily, don't worry! Answers are coming in the next chapter. And ass-kicking (hopefully) soon after that. :)

And yes, you all have permission to take turns shooting me since I kept you waiting so long. I've had a TON of homework, and I have to write a story for my friend for Christmas. And… I kinda was reading the Virtual Serieses (is that a word?) on Virtual Mutant. Yes, I'm horrible, here's a crossbow.


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